


Eye Of The Hurricane

by Smol_Bean_Babe



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series), Gravity Falls, Homestuck, Sally Face (Video Games), Star vs. The Forces Of Evil
Genre: Chubby Karkat Vantas, Dipper is asthmatic, Drug Dependency, Dysphoria, Equius is a asshole, FTM Karkat Vantas, Gen, Karkat and Nepeta are twins, Pines twins are traumatized, Sadly, Sal does not correct them, Slight DaveKat, almost everyone has anxiety, assholery all around. really, because equius a asshole., chubby sal fisher, dipper has ocd, everyone assumes Sal is a girl, fights in certain chapters??, fun right???, gamzee smokes weed, marco is tired and cynical, mentions of dancestors and alpha kids, phobia of one's own face, sal corrects equius tho, salt shaker of queer, slight ableism on Max's part, sorry was that too much???, this is legitness, tom lucitor is human, trolls are human
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2019-02-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 15:06:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,553
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13413825
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smol_Bean_Babe/pseuds/Smol_Bean_Babe
Summary: Ok, so i know you guys probs ran away from the surplus of characters, and I honestly don't blame you, seeing as this is one-hundred percent a self-indulgent venture, haha... I put a lot of heart and soul into this, so if it turns out bad, it is completely because of my blindness to how bad it truly is. :-)? (also, more of these are planned,)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM ENJOY

"Today's the day, Max!"  
  
A young man stands upon a dust road, almost blending into the background of trees and bushes. His companion, however, seemed better fitted to a large city, with his light blue hoodie and mess of dark hair.  
  
"And just how many of these little _shits_ are coming?" The aforementioned 'Max' made a grand sweeping motion to gesture towards the bus, and then the building ten feet away from them labelled 'Mess Hall.'  
  
"About twenty, Max. Haven't I mentioned that?" David peered down at Max, his eyes squinted, as if he were going to continue the thought.  
  
Max wasted no time in glaring up at his co-counselor.  
  
"Yeah, I just wanted to make sure I wasn't going deaf," Max huffed, turning to stare at the slowly expanding plume of dust, which seemed to be the bus that brought children to the blessed Camp Campbell.  
  
_Twenty god-damned campers,_ Max grumbled to himself, _I can't believe this!_  
  
Nikki, a young girl with flushed cheeks from too much sun, bounced on her heels beside Max. Next to her was Neil, who looked like he was about to explode. Nerves crackled through his eyes, and he was managing to keep himself together only through sheer force of will. And along with that, the rumble in the ground matched the frantic paces of the counselors' heartbeats, and when the bus skidded to a halt in front of them, their hearts collectively stopped.  
  
The campers in the mess hall gathered at the window to stare, without remorse, at the kids that were coming off the bus in a chaotic throng, pushing and shoving and shielding their eyes from the sun that spared no unshaded part of the camp.  
  
One after the other, odd and sometimes downright frightening kids flowed out of the bus's door. Some of them stopped to stand awkwardly on the gravel road, but each of them were weighed down with bags that seemed mostly too big for them to be able to hold.  
  
Max scanned the crowd, finding that his gaze came most often-as if dragged there by magnetic pull-to six individuals in particular.  
  
The first two were a set of twins, with angled eyes and dark skin. One of them reminded Max of someone, but he couldn't quite place his finger on who it was. The other had bright eyes that stared in wonder at the trees around them. Her pants came to a cut-off end just above her knees, showcasing _Hello Kitty_ band-aids that covered what were probably skinned knees. The backs of her hands were covered in what looked to by black leather- fingerless gloves?  
  
The next two, however, were quite obviously not related at all, one of them having dark hair that fell very much past the small of his back, and the other having long, blue hair, tied up into high pigtails. Max assumed that this was a wig. The kid with blue hair wore a mask that covered her entire face, excepting her eyes, and the guy with no mask wore a grungy, off-yellow shirt that showcased some obscure band that Max had never heard of. The girl in the mask boldly wore a black sweatshirt, which seemed with every passing moment less bold and more _dumb-as-hell,_ and both of them wore jeans tight enough to strangle a mouse.  
  
Max was not impressed by this display.  
  
The last two seemed to be brother and sister, and seemed to be twins. The boy, who had a blue-and-white hat with an image of what seemed to be a pine-tree emblazoned on the front, wore an anxious look on his face, his eyes wide and almost glassy. In stark contrast, the girl had an almost starry-eyes expression as she fiddled with a small pig stuffed-animal gripped tight in her hands. Their hair almost exactly mirrored each other's, if not for the difference in length.  
  
Max's gaze flitted between them, and he didn't stop his staring until they moved.  
  
Max jumped as David rocked back on his heels, cupping his hands around his mouth, and roared, "Alright campers! I want you to get into two lines: one for girls, and one for boys!"  
  
Max turned to watch the girl in the mask as she moved towards the boy's line. Max nodded, and Neil shuffled.  
  
"Alright! I'll have Gwen lead you girls to your tents and I'll lead the boys to theirs! After everything's settled we'll bring you all out to the, um, the campfire for introductions!"  
  
Just as David turned away to lead the group of boys to their tents, the young _boy_ in the mask shot forward, his blue hair- decidedly _not_ a wig- flowing back a bit in the scant wind, shot forward towards David, his drug-dealer looking friend following suit.  
  
"Hey, uh, Mr.Counselor Guy," he muttered, his eyes shifting from David to his friend, "Can I, uh, could I get- could I possibly get a tent with just me and my friend in it?"  
David cocked his head to one side, tapping his chin with his finger. "Can you tell me why?" There was no mal-intent in the statement- David was only following strict regulations from the Guy on Top- but Max could tell that it, still, had lashed the kid.  
  
"It's, uh, it's just-"  
  
"That mask covers the _problem area_ for him. He can't wear it while he sleeps, but I'm the only person here he knows and is comfortable with. Don't worry, though, because I'll protect him from any bears," Shirt spoke quickly, but still loudly enough that anyone could hear him. Mask nodded, looking back at shirt with what looked like a fond look in his eyes.  
  
David nodded vigorously, whipping around to _actually_ lead the boys down to their tents.  
  
As one of the angled twins passed him, Max caught something he said:  
  
"Goddamn if I don't get some food soon."  
  
Max huffed, indignant at the haughty way that this kid was trailing his _buddies,_ and followed quickly after Mask and Shirt, who were just behind Pine Hat.  
  
When Max was a foot away, Mask seemed to realize that someone was following him and his guy-friend, so he turned around so that he fully faced Max. He opened his mouth to work some words out.  
  
"Oh! You're, uh..." Mask's gaze flickered back to Shirt, who gave a minute shrug.  
  
"Max, your counselor. I have reign over tents A, C, and F, in the boys' section. David over there has total control over all your activities, Neil has reigns on the Mess Hall and the camp's overall cleanliness, and Nikki presides over the some of the girls' section of camp. Don't ask me what Gwen does; I have no fuckin' clue. Anything else you need?" The words rolloed off of Max's tongue quicker than even he expected them to. Damn, he _was_ getting good at this.  
  
Mask only shook his head in response, looking somberly at the ground.  
  
"Oh, Max! Show these two to their tent, please!"  
  
Mask looked back up at Max, and then Shirt, Angles _and_ Pine Hat were all staring at him. Uncomfortable itchiness spread down his back and across his collarbone, and Max trudged past the group of kids. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a guy following him with a stare that was _almost_ dead-eyed. Max turned back to watch Mask and Shirt following his progress, picking their way across the camp's dusty road towards him.  
  
They were, and they were talking quietly to each other as they did.  
  
When Max saw the tent coming into sight, he loaded his gun with yet another speech, this one supplied by Neil.  
  
"You are going to be here for basically the entire summer, so you will be in this tent a _lot._ I expect it to be tidied every other day at the very _least,_ and if you find a spider, come get me. No using fucking axe in here; the aerosol will dissolve the water-proofing. These rules have kept the tents the cleanest things in this hell-hole for nigh-on four years, and that is _not_ about to stop this year. Got that, Mask?"  
  
Max _definitely_ hadn't meant to say that last part. The entire sentence was tumbling out into the airwaves before he could even send a signal to his brain to stop it. He also hadn't meant it as an insult, but he knew he sounded snarky, but that's just the way his voice was and oh god what if this kid called his parents and oh _Christ_ what if the camp got shut down for harassment, he didn't want to go back to his parents-  
  
"Hey, dude, it's fine, I just-" Mask cut himself off with a laugh, his eyes crinkling at the edges. His pigtails swayed a bit. "Everyone calls me 'sally face,' and I don't quite recall anyone ever actually insulting me just based on the mask, most added in the pigtails-that's not to say that was an insult, just-" He trailed off again, this time to scratch at the back of neck.  
  
Max stared as this kid stopped chuckling, brought his hand to his side, and then lifted that same hand in an offer for a handshake, before he said, "My name's Sal, dude."  
Shirt shuffled a bit closer as the two shook hands, a big, dopey-ass grin on his face.  
  
"What were you calling me?"  
  
They reached the tents, and Max followed both of them as they made arrangements. Shirt was scooting the beds together to form a giant pallet, spreading a bunch of blankets over them.  
  
"Shirt."  
  
Shirt snorted, covering his mouth with the back of his hand.  
  
"You are pure gold, Max. S'Larry, by-the-by," Larry was almost inaudible as he tossed his and Sal's bags in the floor next to their barely-made bed. Sal crept up, nodding, as he appraised the bed.  
  
"I'm going to leave now, so that you guys can get comfortable, okay?" Max mumbled, his professional voice back and in full swing even as Sal fell back onto the bed.  
  
"Okay, you do that," Sal whispered breezily, turning onto his side as he made a vague gesture in the air.  
  
Max sighed, slouching out of the tent moodily, only one thought on his mind.  
  
_I hate working here._


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well, um, i aIN"T DEAD

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey, i'll try to post more regularly now, once a month at the slowest,

Sal's head had hit the pillow, and he had conked out. The fact that he had ridden a bus, hip-to-hip with Larry, who had literally the boniest goddamn hips on earth, did not help him stay awake. So he, in all honesty, never wanted to see, or be on, a bus again.  
  
So it was about an hour after all of this that Sal woke up, and the source of his waking up was Larry, who was clomping around the tent and grumbling to himself about the icebreaker.  
  
Wait, what icebreaker?  
  
Sal narrowed his eyes at the ceiling in silent skepticism, his hand coming up to cover his left eye. A sigh escaped him, and then he realized:  
  
_The icebreaker._  
  
Sal was up in a flash, slinging his arms about himself as if the devil were in his hide and ripping quickly out of it.`The smell of leaf-mulch drifted in from outside as Larry threw the tent-flaps wide open, and Sal snorted in indignance.  
  
"God, couldn't I just, like, sleep for ten years?" Sal murmured, pressing a hand to his eye again.  
  
When Larry didn't answer, Sal peered over at the tent's opening, only to discover that Larry had gone. Of course, he wasn't far gone; Sal could hear him talking outside, but he was still gone.  
  
Sal shook his head to clear his thoughts, and stood.  
  
Light was pooling across the floor of the tent, and Sal watched as an unidentifiable bird fluttered up from the forest floor in a puff of feathers.  
  
Outside their tent, Sal realized that he could hear Max, as well as that one kid that had threatened to punch Larry in the neck if he kept 'acting like such a bulgelick.'  
Sal narrowed his eyes, slightly uncomfortable.  
  
_I never want to see where that kid's from._  
  
Sal shook his head, grabbing up a new shirt, and some pants, from his bag. It took a while of wrestling the shirt over his prostethic without risk of breaking the damn thing, but he did end up with the shirt on. It was a short-sleeve this time; a far-cry from the usual stuffy sweatshirts that he usually wore, even in the heat of summer. Of course, this caused some problems.  
  
Like, the cool breezes that sliced up his arms like rivulets of water, or the bugs that would obviously come out during the night.  
  
Again, Sal found himself shaking his head, trying to dull the anxieties that he harbored about getting his arms eaten off by bugs during the night.  
  
He pulled on the red ball-shorts he had picked out, and bolted for the tent-flap.  
  
When he pulled the flap back, the muscles in his legs tensing and relaxing in a seemingly random pattern, he was blinded by the sunlight that sliced down from between the leaves of trees in a mosaic of beautiful watery light.  
  
He lifted a hand to his face, grinning like a dope under his prostethic.  
  
Larry waved to him, almost beckoning him into the conversation he was having with the Bulgelick Kid. The glare that BulgeLick Kid was sending him, however, kept Sal standing on the edge of the psuedo-porch that bordered the tent.  
  
Sal looked behind him with some trepidation, and let the flap fall shut as he stepped onto the still-soft ground- the beginnings of a warm summer.  
  
When he looked back to Larry and BulgeLick, he noticed the few kids that had congregated around Larry. There were two sets of eyes staring at Sal, plus the twin lenses of some dumb-ass aviators that weren't actually that dumb because it was summer.  
  
The two sets of eyes were two kids that looked like they were twins, but were very obviously very much not- one had thick-rimmed glasses that magnified his eyes in an almost cartoonish way; he was scrawny, his pants barely hanging onto his legs. The hem of this guy's shirt looked worn and worried to a concerning point. The other kid was a young girl, her fingers adorned with colorful bands. She was worrying her hands, wringing them together and sometime dragging a set of knuckles across her cheek. Atop her sharp-looking nose was a pair of cute glasses, their lenses round and big.  
  
Larry waved, again, at Sal, smiling behind the back of his other hand. BulgeLick Kid shot several quick glances between Sal and Larry and the guy in the aviators, obviously very indignant, in an almost childish way.  
  
"So, has the pwincess gotten her beauty sweep?" Larry kept his hand over his mouth, but fluttered his eyelashes to get some obscure point across. Sal chuckled, elbowing Larry softly in the stomach. Larry leaned over at once, clutching at his stomach. A curtain of hair covered his face as he kneeled, groaning.  
  
"Ya shot me, chief..." He hissed, slapping his hand to the ground as he tried desperately to keep from laughing.  
  
Sal growled good naturedly, tapping Larry in the side with a foot.  
  
"Get up, you f-"  
  
_"Campers!"_  
  
Sal whipped around as someone clomped up, their feet slapping the soft ground like bombs in a mudslide. They stomped up immediately to Sal, towering over him in a way that was almost intimidating.  
  
They had deep red hair, and were only a tad taller than Sal, but still somehow managed to force him to look up at them as they talked.  
  
_"WHAT WERE YOU DOING OVER HERE?"_ They bellowed, their breath billowing over Sal in what Sal could only describe as a perfect attack on the senses. Sal grimaced, closing his eyes tight, wringing his hands in the hem of his pants.  
  
"Nothing, sir, we were heading to the mess hall," Sal blurted, hunkering down even smaller. The way this guy was talking to him, almost sounded like a big dog, barking and barking and _barking-_  
  
"Oh. Good. I guess, uh, carry on? But also, like, follow me to the mess hall," The guy said, suddenly peaceful. He turned on his heels, chaotic energy building up around him like a wall. __  
  
Sal sent a single glance back at his group of people, to find BulgeLick Kid talking to the guy in the aviators, and the two twins who weren't twins both staring at the back of the counselor guy's head, almost glaring in the intensity. Larry was absent-mindedly wiping his hands back and forth on his worn work-pants, which were striped with paint and gods-knew-what-else.  
  
Sal narrowed his eyes at Larry, trying to scan his face for anything. When he found nothing particularly different from the almost-vacant expression that Larry usually wore, Sal turned back to follow the counselor.  
  
***  
  
Of course, they were at the mess hall in less than five minutes, but it took the counselors almost twenty to get everyone situated and not pissed at everything. In the end, though, their efforts were in vain, because the campers wouldn't stop fidgeting for less than a second, and people were moving and yelling even when David got their attention.  
  
A semblance of peace settled over the crowd when David stood up on one of the mess hall tables, though.  
  
Sal could hear BulgeLick whispering loudly, though, even as David started speaking.  
  
"Alright, campers! Welcome to an exciting year at Camp Campbell! Right now, we'll hand out schedules for activities and get introductions out of the way. If you have any medicine that you take routinely, hand it off to Neil now and mark off if you're supposed to take it at breakfast, lunch, or bedtime. We'll be having an icebreaker to start off the year and get some awkward-ness out of the air for everyone. I'll start, and then we'll go counter-clockwise around our circle and you all will introduce yourselves!"  
  
Sal sat up as a spike of anxiety rocketed through his, from spine to his cerebral cortex, and he almost blacked out. Suddenly, he didn't feel the warmth of the thirty-something bodies pressing around him, couldn't feel the pain of Larry's hip prodding the soft skin of his thigh, couldn't hear or see anything because he didn't want to get up in front of these people and say anything.  
  
Because, as Sal knew, he didn't have anything special about him.  
  
So Sal just leaned gently into Larry's side, and listened.  
  
David introduced himself, obviously, and was followed up by a guy with splotches of light and dark skin across his face. He was smiling like a dumbass, his eyes narrowed as he gestured around. He relaxed backward, slouching in a way that succeeded in making him look uncomfortable and extremely pleased simultaneously. He explained that the kid in the wheelchair, Tavros, was one of his very close friends, and that if anyone raised a hand against him, that they'd have hell to pay.  
  
The next few kids were a blur to Sal, but he could glean that the guy in the red hoodie had a tumultuous relationship with almost every person in his Dungeon and Dragons campaign, and that that kid with the pink hair thought he was a demon for the first leg of his life.  
  
Next was BulgeLick, whose name was apparently Karkat. He told an epic of his thirteen different hermit crabs, how they all died, and how he had named one of them crab-dad. This poor guy was killed in an accident involving a live-wire and an electrical fire, and, by Karkat's standards, was 'literally the best pet on earth.'  
  
Ten people's introductions passed, and then Larry was up. He smiled, looked over at Sal, and said, "Ah'm Larry the cable gah, and ah lahke cables. And, um, gahs?"  
  
Sal's eyes widened of their own accord, and then he started cackling. His sides hurt as he listened to Larry introduce himself, and then he realized that everyone was looking at him.  
  
Through a fit of laughing and coughing, Sal said his name and told everyone that he wanted to be a ghost hunter when he grew up.  
  
Sal subsided his laughter just as a young girl introduced herself as Nepeta, Karkat's sister, and told them about her cat, Pounce, who ate seven of Karkat's thirteen hermit crabs.  
  
"Pounce thought they were quite delicious," she elaborated, her voice lilted and sing-songy, if a bit annoying.  
  
Sal smiled, and leaned back on his hands, staring up at the sky. The sun was almost kissing the horizon, and indigo shades graced the farthest edge of the sky. The thought occurred to Sal that Larry would be able to paint that sky, in that moment.  
  
Sal told everyone that he didn't much like camping when the circle came back around.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper is quite worried over a lot of things, mabel meets an internet friend, and we meet two of dipper's tent-mates! how fun, right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> when you aCTUALLY UPDATE ONTIME

Dipper left the mess hall to find that the sun was still not even kissing the horizon, and just barely had graced the treetops. Blinding light filtered between the branches, light that crackled in his vision like breaking twigs and that made him cringe.  
  
He shook his head, moving out of the way of the door just as Mabel burst out of the mess hall, all bright smiles and flashing silver. A light-purple sweater was tied around her waist, softly contrasting the limey-green of her shirt.  
  
Something in the back of Dipper's mind spiked with pain, and he covered an eye with a hand. A few more people filed out, including the kid with the hermit-crab obsession, and that Nepeta girl-his twin, if Dipper could remember correctly. They both broke off in seperate directions, though, and Dipper and Mabel still waited by the door.  
  
Dipper shifted his weight to his left leg, and rubbed at his side. Ever since that nasty fall he had taken in Gravity Falls, he couldn't settle in one position for too long.  
  
Or, wait, Dipper pondered, scowling at the ground between his feet. A beetle scuttled past on a journey, probably to its home, and then promptly dissapeared into the grass.  
  
Was that even just a fall?  
  
Suddenly, two kids burst from the mess hall, one of them giggling in a high voice that grated on Dipper's ears. Her hair flowed behind her in a blonde tangle, pops and snarls making up almost seventy percent of her hair's mass.  
  
She was beaming at Mabel, her sunny gaze never leaving Dipper. Her eyes were big and bright and blue as the sky, and shone with twice as much vigor as she skipped towards Dipper and Mabel. She had little devil horns that adorned the top of her head, which complimented her hair well, by Dipper's standards. Dipper was staring off into space, thinking about how this girl and his sister were looking into each other's eyes as if they'd known each for a long time, when the starry-eyed girl, the one with the little horns, smiled even wider.  
  
"Mabel oh my god, I can't believe it's really you!"  
  
Mabel opened her arms a bit, grinning. Her eyes crinkled at the edges, obscuring her gaze a bit. She didn't break her smile as she said,  
  
"The one and only. Now come 'ere, gimme a hug!"  
  
The blonde girl launched herself at Mabel, screaming in delight.  
  
Dipper smiled a bit, wrinkling his nose. He really had never been that good with displays of affection.  
  
The kid that had followed the blonde girl out was staring at her with an almost impatient glare that made Dipper feel quite uneasy. The kid in question was tall, and had deep brown eyes that were almost black. He was leaning to one side in a way that imposed his posture permanently on the background. He was just lenient and relaxed enough to blend in, but still, with his eyes glaring out at everyone like a hawk's, he seemed to want to be seen.  
  
Suddenly, Dipper found himself under the kid's insurmountable gaze, and seemed to be unable to look away.  
  
The guy stepped towards him, flipping his baby-doll pink tresses away from his face. His eyes told Dipper 'don't fuck with me,' and Dipper sure wasn't.  
  
So, while Mabel connected with her internet-now-physical-friend, Dipper shuffled away and to his tent, where he knew he would get some solace.  
  
***  
  
Dipper sidled up to his tent, his mouth working at a steady, feverish pace. He was talking to himself, mumbling garbled nonsense-words. He knew it was weird, but wasn't he, always?  
  
Softly, he pulled the tent-flap aside, ready to enjoy some not-very-well-earned 'Turtle Time.'  
  
"Hey, athhat! Get my glatheth while you're back there!"  
  
"Kiss my dick, Sol. You can get your own cod-damned glasses, I ain't doin' _shit_ for you!"  
  
"Yeah, well jutht _try_ me, ED! I could take you on, no problemth, and I could do it _blindfolded."_  
  
Dipper sighed, frowning. Why couldn't he _ever_ seem to catch a break around here?  
  
Suddenly, the argument stopped, and Dipper was met with the worst view of his life. Some guy peeked over the edge of his bed, having apparently been looking out towards the woods, for whatever reason, his upper lip bloody and bruised. The guy had a _serious_ overbite, four of his top teeth hanging down over his bottom lip, sorta like a fucked-up sabertooth tiger. He was glaring at Dipper with two different colored eyes: one was a deep, deep brown, the other a dingy blue. He bared his teeth at Dipper, and turned back to the woods.  
  
"ED, you inthufferable thit nugget, you knew that there wath thomeone coming, didn't you? And you jutht, took my glatheth, like the little annoying bitch-baby that you are!" This guy was _almost_ yelling, but never actually loud enough to cause a scene. His lisp was getting in the way on certain words, like _'bitch,'_ which made him splutter and get even more angry, which, in turn, made the guy in the woods ever angrier as well.  
  
"Now, hold on just a minute, Sol," The guy outside, presumably ED, was saying, "You don't really mean to tell me, that by any stretch a'tha means, that I knew that someone was a'comin' to our door, and you actually think that I woulda _dropped your glasses out here, and am now lloking for them,_ as all of some 'master plan?" ED was shouting, his voice carrying enough for anyone in the boys' side of camp to hear them.  
  
Dipper was shaking his head worriedly, raising his hands to chest-level. Sollux turned to look at him, though, and remained unimpressed.  
  
"Oh, don't pleathe yourthelf, kid. I'm not, like, particularly pithed at you, I jutht don't like not having my glatheth on. Now, thcram." The flippant remark was followed by a soft grunt outside, most likely from ED.  
  
Dipper peeked around Sol a bit, only to see that ED was, in fact, that kid in the cape that had tripped him on accident when Dipper and Mabel had been going into the mess hall.  
  
"Oh. Can I help find them? Your, uhm, glasses, of course." Dipper smiled, taking a few paces forward.  
  
_Might as well make myself useful to my tent-mates, right?_  
  
Sollux broke eye contact for a second, before nodding curtly.  
  
"Knock yourthelf out, kid. Don't think they're even thtill there, though."  
  
"What do you mean?" Dipper was determined to make a good first impression on this guy, of all people. He slipped into a sitting position to slide onto the ground below when Sollux snorted a bit, his sound more humor than anything.  
  
"What do you mean, 'what do I mean?' I mean that my glatheth are probably gone, dude. Dithappeared, right out from under ED's-"  
  
"My name leaves your mouth again, Sol, and we'll be flippin'," ED spoke quickly, his hands stressing the matted grass around his fingers. He looked, very obviously, like a man who was looking for nothing other than excuses to prolong a conversation with someone.  
  
So Dipper played along. He paced along the edge of the tent, patting the ground a bit in certain places, always managing to just barely dance around Sol's glasses, but always getting close enough to show ED where they were. When Dipper finally gave up the charade, he was met with much chagrin on ED's part, and a subtly less impassive impassiveness from Sol.  
  
Dipper smiled a bit, determine, as ever, to make a lasting impression on Sol. But, even Dipper was not prone to giving the hell up, so he just scrambled back onto the tent's floor, and scuttled towards his bed. When he was finally situated, and comfortable to boot, he heard ED and Sol bickering.  
  
Sol and ED both left the tent shortly, but not before Sol slipped a passing remark in Dipper's direction:  
  
_"Thankth, kid. I'da never have gotten my glatheth back if you hadn't have helped me."_


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Karkat's pov and some equius being kind a dumb. te pacing in this is atrocious, but im blaming that on me being tired from a stress meltdown.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> karkat is soft, and warm... like mash potatoe

Karkat slumped into his tent, scowling. His shoulders ached from one of Nepeta's 'tackle-pounces,' and his ass hurt from sitting on that bus for three hours and then sitting on the cold floor of that mess hall for approximately three years, and to top that all off:  
  
His binder wasn't in his bag.  
  
Now, need I remind you that Karkat isn't that well endowed, but the slight protrusion was enough to make him _wildly_ uncomfortable.  
  
But no one knew, right?  
  
"Karkat. Fancy seeing you here."  
  
Karkat froze, his right foot halfway pushing the tent flap open. Fear spiked down his spine as he grimaced at that voice.  
  
Of course. Of fucking _course._  
  
Karkat slouched down even more, jabbing his chin down into his chest. He looked up at Equius, who was sitting on his own bed, through thick eyelashes.  
  
"I told you not to speak to Nepeta like that again. Or did you not hear me?" Equius all but hissed, his teeth clenched. _God,_ this guy was too extra.  
  
Karkat scoffed, rolling his eyes, and growled, "Oh, like what? Like a _brother_ talks to his _sister?_ Take that stick out of your petulant, whining shit-hole, you assbag. Also-"  
Equius stood, looming over Karkat, and suddenly all of Karkat's words dried up in his throat. Equius only glared at Karkat for a moment, before stepping up to plate. He wasn't even a foot away from Karkat as he rumbled, "I don't give a _damn_ how you talk to her, just don't treat her like that. I don't want to ever see her in a position where she may be insulted. Do you hear me, _Karkat?"_  
  
Venom glittered in Equius's gaze, and Karkat wilted. He let his gaze drop, and murmured a low 'yes, sir,' and Equius backed away and sat back down.  
  
Equius's glare cut through Karkat like ice, and Karkat dug his nails so sharply into his palms that he could feel the crescent-moon shapes carving into his skin. Hard, searing irritation weeded itself into the back of Karkat's mind, softly wriggling its way into the nape of his neck.  
  
A breeze cut up Karkat's sweater, ruffling the fabric. Karkat shivered, closing his eyes for moment. When he opened his eyes again, Equius was moving to get up, probably to get his stuff.  
  
But, in Karkat's mind, these actions were all adding to the epic conclusion of _ohgodhe'sgonnakillmeiknowitohgodohgod._  
  
Equius grabbed something that looked like a towel from the bin that held his stuff, and left the tent, leaving an electrified air behind him that was clogged with an odd amount of emotion.  
  
Karkat smiled a bit, turned, and _ran._ It was abrupt and messy and kinda pathetic, but it worked for him in the moment and he wasn't about to try and dissprove something that worked.  
  
Well, anyways, as Karkat was running, he was watching things out of the corners of his eyes. Snapshots whizzed by, sounds flashed through like whipcracks, and all of his senses were overrun as he ran to beat the devil.  
  
Karkat beat his feet against the ground, throwing up dirt clods as he sprinted through the boy's side of camp. Almost-green masses that could be passed off as tents shot past him in a blur, and sunbeams sliced the ground.  
  
His heart beat like a bird in a cage, and he almost screamed as anger roiled and bubbled inside his chest.  
  
God, why was he so pissed?  
  
Dust paths shot off to his left, and he realized that he was running straight at a bramble patch. He pulled up, or tried to, and slid a bit before his momentum carried him into the ground.  
  
Karkat turned to the left a bit, his shoulder shooting into a nose-dive as he tried desperately to correct himself. In the end, though, he over-corrected, and ended up sliding right into the thick of the bracken on his back, rucking up his shirt roughly as he did.  
  
Dust roiled up around Karkat, and he bit back a scream as thorns stabbed and scratched at his arms, poking through his sweater-sleeves as if they were nothing.  
  
Dimly, Karkat listened as a group of people walked by. And another, and then a third.  
  
But then, a fourth group stopped next to where Karkat was shoved into the brambles.  
  
A soft, familiard voice drifted over the wind, its rise and fall a beautiful melody to Karkat. The timbre would've made Karkat flush if he were younger; now, all he felt was solidity.  
  
And then, another familiar voice. This one was scratchy and a bit irritating at first- a bit more feminine than the last.  
  
And then, a third.  
  
The quality of this voice was chopped and broken by some emotion that almost sounded jubilant- if you listened to it in a pleasant enough setting.  
  
But this was not a pleasant setting.  
  
And the voice was Karkat's.  
  
"Get me out of here, you absolute, blustering, festering, shitfucks! I'm gonna choke to death on weeds if you don't drag me out you pestulant sacks of fuck!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes karkat's trans fucky ou


	5. chapter the fifth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This time with marco

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God y'all i'm so sorry for not updating in forever!!!! I meant to, i really did, but i lost my vision for a while and some shit went DOWN. it sucked but im better now, so here yall go!!

Marco walked through camp with his shoulders shrugged up to his ears, his eyebrows furrowed in concentration as he listened to Star talk.  
  
"And then she says 'Oh no, you cahn't do thaht, Starrr. It'sh unladyloike-"  
  
She broke off with a laugh, probably at her piss-poor imitation of her mother. She looked back at Marco, her blue eyes piercing him.  
  
Marco knew there was a poem in there somewhere.  
  
Tom was clomping along beside them, and one of the twins—last name _Pines_ —was talking Star's ear off.  
  
As Marco focused on a beetle that was scuttling across the road, Tom pulled up beside him.  
  
"What's that thing you say when Star makes you angry? I'm days-"  
  
"It's _ay, dios mío,"_ Marco muttered, shooting Tom a sidelong glance. "Maybe I should get you a Spanish dictionary for your birthday."  
  
"Why would I want one, when I have a perfectly good translator right here?" Tom turned, backpedaling now. A wry smile graced his features, showing off his jaw-line, and the wicked-sharp canines that showed stark white against ashy skin.  
  
"I only know the basics, and some of the grammar," Marco said. His hair fell into his right eye, irritating him and making him flip his hair back.  
  
"So?" Tom tripped up, his foot sliding back a foot or so, but he caught himself.  
  
"So you should stop asking me to teach you everything. I'm not a professor," Marco said, scratching his nails up and down the palm of his hand.  
  
Tom smiled, again and wider, his eyes lighting up with the same look as he had when he'd convinced Marco to come to Camp Campbell.  
  
Marco stopped short, sucking in a warm breath through clenched teeth.  
  
 _"Don't you dare,"_ he hissed, eyes narrowing.  
  
When Tom opened his mouth to speak, Marco clapped his hands over his ears.  
  
And then someone crashed into him from behind.  
  
The impact sent Marco sprawling, and he almost expected to turn and see an animal running through the camp—his first thought was _deer—_ but instead, he got a glimpse of one of the kids, barreling across the camp. His strides were long and pretty even, even though he was short—think maybe five-foot-three—but it was _quite_ obvious that he either a. Didn't see where he was going, or, b. Was really just wanting to die, seeing as he was bounding straight toward a bramble thicket.  
  
Star seemed to jerk back, yelling for the kid to stop.  
  
He went to shoot up, his back going rod-straight. And then his knees buckled underneath him, and he stumbled forward and fell to the ground, toppling and trying to turn as he slid across the dust.  
  
His hair was poking out of a bramble-patch by the time he was done.  
  
Tom turned, beginning to trot away from the entire scene with an air of 'oops, we didn't do that,' that made Marco almost angry.  
  
But, in the end, he followed Tom hesitantly, worriedly glancing behind him as a few other people stalked past. A blind girl, smacking the back of some blonde kid's knees with her cane. A pair of guys, one with a cape and one with a limp.  
  
Marco was scanning a pair of kids that looked really, _really_ familiar when the camp counselor Niel ran up to them, out of breath and panting.  
  
 _"No,"_ he breathed, hair drifting in kinks and curls down into his eyes. Sweat plastered baby-hairs to his forehead.  
  
Tom made a noise in his throat, and it was then that Tom realized that Star was nowhere around.  
  
"Max went off somewhere and I think he had illegal shit? Anyways, mess hall in an hour, activity assignments," he said, dragging himself into a dead sprint again.  
  
Marco exchanged a look with Tom, his nose scrunching up as he tried to contain a laugh that would surely come out as a cackle.  
  
As they walked past the chaos that was the lake—David, or whatever his name was, was trying to teach a young girl how to fish—Marco whispered to Tom that the entire camp seemed to be on edge.  
  
"I mean, after that whole parents-fucking-in-front-of-a-bunch-of-camp-kids fiasco last summer, I would be on edge, too," Tom said.  
  
Marco turned his gaze up to the canopy above him. His eyelids drifted downward, and he grimaced.  
  
They wandered aimlessly for another hour until Star ran up, followed by the Pines twins, both of whom looked rankled.  
  
The smell of sulfur lingered on the air, as did David's voice.  
  
"All campers' attendance is required at the mess hall for activity assignment!"  
  
The twins were staring around fearfully, and Marco watched as one of his fellow campers rounded the corner.  
  
Her hair was long, and coiled around her waist like springs of seaweed. Her eyes were a pale, sweet pink.  
  
Wait.  
  
 _Pink?_  
  
Her smile reached her eyes as she walked towards the Pines twins, holding out a book that had been stained on the corners of a few pages.  
  
"I suppose this is one of yours?"  
  
Marco breathed in. Her voice was like a cat's, sonorous and harmonizing with the wind in the treetops as she smiled kindly at the twins.  
  
One of them stepped forward, waving his hand to indicate that the book was, in fact, his.  
  
"Yeah, it's, um. Mine," he said. His fingers shook as much as his voice did, Marco found himself thinking, and the girl who'd approached them, smiled at them. All.  
  
"My name's Feferi." She shook his hand, and then held out her elbow to his twin, smiling.  
  
"May I?"  
  
"Dipper," the Pines kid whispered, in awe of the girl who looked like she'd dragged herself out of a riptide.  
  
Dipper's sister, who introduced herself as Mabel, linked arms with Feferi. She let herself be guided along the path back to the mess hall, her eyes flicking toward the regal girl who'd offered her arm.  
  
Marco smiled, his grin lighting up his face. Tom beamed at him, and grinned up towards Feferi.  
  
They began to drift towards the mess hall, not entirely minding the sun that scorched their faces.  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, please point out dumb shit that I do or say, and also characterization errors and spelling or grammar mistakes!!  
> Love y'all buh-bye fer now


	6. Chapter Six

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sal ends up uhhhhhh yeah

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was having a panic attack as i was postubg this help

Sal walked along the edge of the crowd, holding his assignments, along with Larry's, Nepeta's, and Karkat's.  
  
Karkat had approached the group just before assignments were given out, with that kid in the aviators and the blind girl—whose names were Dave and Terezi, apparently—and had been stuck through-and-through with pieces of briar and thorns.  
  
Dave had had an arm around Karkat's shoulders, and Sal could tell that he was staring right at the prosthetic. Everyone did.  
  
Karkat was visibly shaken when Sal began to talk to Larry, talking about how one of his binders was gone and he remembered specifically packing that binder because it was good for hiking, and he seemed to inch forward, his eyes lit up with questions.  
  
"You have more than one binder?" It was direct, almost way too blunt in the way he said it. And it made Sal laugh.  
  
"Yeah, I keep maybe four binders with me at all times," he wheezed, his chuckles throwing his shoulders wildly.  
  
Karkat tossed his head, huffing as his ears stained themselves red.  
  
"You don't have to laugh at me like a fucking prick," he growled.  
  
Sal brought a hand out in front of him, shaking his head exaggeratedly.  
  
"No, no," he began, voice quaking with laughter, "It's just the way you said it. Sorry, I shouldn't be laughing."  
  
Karkat deflated, as Sal watched. His eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth turned down as he frowned.  
  
Sal grinned, before he realized that it was really ultimately useless; Karkat couldn't see his face.  
  
Larry chuckled from beside him, his grin stretching from ear-to-ear.  
  
"At least now we can say that we have a goal here," He commented, flipping his hair back.  
  
The glossy ponytail that Larry had his hair in swayed against his back, mesmerizing Sal for a moment before a wake-up call from Karkat had his mind stumbling out of a reverie.  
  
"I just can't believe my brother didn't tell me that I was about to leave it, he's usually annoyingly attentive."  
  
"Where'd you leave it?" Sal inched forward, his foot making a _chrsh-crsh_ noise on the crisp leaves from last autumn.  
  
Karkat grimaced, a snarl plain on his features.  
  
"At home."  
  
Sal sucked in a breath, hissing out a breath to showcase his condolences.  
  
"It always sucks when I forget to bring my binders anywhere," Sal explained, smiling apologetically under his prosthetic.  
  
Karkat shook his head, cocking it to the side. "What size are you, if you don't mind my asking?"  
  
"Oh, an XL in my smallest one," Sal waved his hand dismissively, still smiling beneath his prosthetic.  
  
Karkat made a noise under his breath, eyes flicking between Sal and Larry.  
  
"I'm a large," Karkat whispered. "Do you think I could-"  
  
"Borrow my exercise binder? Sure, dude," Sal said. "Just don't do anything weird to it."  
  
Karkat sighed, loudly, through his nose.  
  
"Why would I?"  
  
Sal chuckled ruefully, and turned to see Larry laughing behind his hand at the two.  
  
•••  
  
Sal walked through the forest, listening to David drone on about the way the moss grew, how deer were opportunistic omnivores, and how birch wood was a slightly different grain than beech.  
  
"Now, campers, let me tell _you-"_  
  
It was easy, Sal surmised, to read the man like an open book. He displayed himself so openly, in an attempt to get closer to his campers, but it just read as being careless—or creepy. His overbearing nature and loud, large motions and wide blue eyes that stared at Sal like he was something to look at. It was all deeply unsettling, when you looked for the signs.  
  
"Surprisingly, poison ivy can be eaten! I've known a lot of people who've-"  
  
Sal realized maybe three seconds into him zoning out that he may have been having a panic attack.  
  
There's that sense of his chest pushing in on itself, of caving in—drowning in the air, drowning drowning _drowning-_  
  
A catch and release, and he breathed out.  
  
Bile swam to the back of Sal's throat, burning there and making him see stars.  
  
"Hey, what's wrong?"  
  
Sal turned to see that kid from before—Dipper?—staring at him with concern glittering in his deep brown eyes.  
  
"Nothing, I'm just thinking about the difference between white ash and poplar."  
  
Dipper laughed, his shoulders bouncing as he gave Sal an appraising look.  
  
Sal smiled kindly, trying to make it reach his eyes.  
  
Dipper turned away, still laughing. He looked a bit pale around the cheeks, that rosy color from the mess hall long gone.  
  
"What's your assignment?" He fiddled with the hem of his vest, rubbing it between two fingers.  
  
"Cleaning toilets and visual artistry," Sal quoted to him, "Whatever that means."  
  
Dipper's shoulder jumped at that, and he shot Sal a look as if to say 'really?'  
  
When he next spoke, it was in a cool tone.  
  
"Me too."  
  
Sal grinned, patting Dipper on the back.  
  
"Maybe we'll get stuck on the same shift, dude."  
  
Dipper grinned, nodding.  
  
"I sure hope so."  
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dipper and co. get all artsy-fartsy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! I think this one's one a the greats, of this fic. Also, I'm thinking of constraining this BEAST to fifteen chapper-doodles, so I can get more of these done.. i have a few of these planned, after all.

Dipper walked through the mess-hall, tray clenched in a white-knuckled hand as he thought about all of the kids around him.  
  
Mabel was with _her_ friends, and had shooed Dipper away from _her_ table with a hand. Maybe everyone else, would, too.  
  
That was to be determined, though; every person in here cpuld be a friend.  
  
Dipper turned, meeting someone's eye from across the room.  
  
 _Exactly,_ see? Everyone had the potential to be Dipper's friend--even the kind of mean, nasty ones.  
  
And a kind of mean, nasty one this dude was.  
  
Standing at about six-eight, built like a brick shithouse, and glaring down at everyone through cracked sunglasses. Next to him, a girl that stood maybe four-eleven, chubby but still healthy, and both were picking their way to Dipper.  
  
Softly, slowly, the girl smiled and said:  
  
"Would you like to come sit with us?"  
  
Her voice is high and whiny, but not nasally like Dipper had expected from someone so--brattish.  
  
Dipper looks around, pointing at himself and looking down at the girl.  
  
She pulled her hat--a navy-blue, soft looking cat--down around her ears and rocked back on her heels, nodding.  
  
"I think you'd be an excellent addition to our team, Sir Pouty-pants!"  
  
"Si--I, just-- _what,"_ Dipper sputtered, his tongue tasting like cotton and anxiety.  
  
"Sir Pouty-pants! I don't believe I know your _real_ name, so I gave you a new one!"  
  
Dipper smiled, pulling at the hem of his vest as he nodded. He swallowed a lump in his throat, his Adam's Apple bobbing, and watched the girl walk slowly towards her table.  
  
There was a pop in the air as Dipper took the first step in following her, and then the next became less dramatic. It was so-on, so-forth, until Dipper was standing alongside one of the little benches that held up the picnic tables in the mess hall.  
  
The girl sat next to Dipper, petting his vest's shoulder-- _Does she know what personal space_ is?--and she was smiling wide at him.  
  
She pointed to each of her friends--a few of which Dipper recognized!--and named them all.  
  
"Sal, Larry, Karkat, Dave, Terezi, Feferi--" She pointed at herself, then, smiling ever-wider-- "Nepeta. And this," She gestured at the tall guy, who'd approached Dipper with Nepeta, "Is Equius. Don't worry, everyone is much less scary than they look. Unless they don't look scary--then you should _not_ be fooled."  
  
Dipper chuckled, looking around the table. Terezi looked scary, with her wide grin and the blood-red sunglasses that looked like fake planets. Dave looked scary, with his stoic demeanor and the fact that Dipper couldn't see his eyes through the aviators he wore. Karkat didn't look scary. Sal didn't look scary. Larry, no. Nepeta... No? Feferi, definitely not.  
  
Dipper turned to Nepeta, smiling.  
  
"What happens if I'm not particularly scared of any of you?"  
  
Nepeta laughed devilishly, her cackle bouncing off of the walls, boisterously loud.  
  
"Then I guess you just have to watch your back, sucker!"  
  
**  
  
Nepeta found everything endlessly funny, didn't she?  
  
Karkat growled from his spot next to Dipper, spatting paint over the wall.  
  
"She's just excited for new friends."  
  
Larry pushed his slick hair back into the hair-tie stiffly, dimly chuckling.  
  
"She's almost tackled me to the ground on _seven_ different occasions. Consider yourself lucky."  
  
Karkat snorted from beside Dipper, launching paint at the wall again.  
  
 _"'Almost?'_ Pah."  
  
Larry laughed quietly, turning to Sal and yelling:  
  
"'Ey! Sally Face! C'mere, I need more paint!"  
  
There was a shuffling groan, and Dipper turned to watch as Sal wiggled his butt off of the picnic table messily, shifting so fast that several papers fluttered to the floor.  
  
Max grumbled something that Dipper couldn't hear, and disengaged from his own mural to go collect the papers.  
  
Sal walked over sullenly, his mask not giving anything away. His pigtails flopped this way and that, falling into his face as he flounced over to the group.  
  
As he handed off the bucket of maroon paint, he laughed.  
  
"Did you call me Sally Face?"  
  
Dipper watched the two curiously, wonder creeping up the back of his mind like a brushfire.  
  
"Yeah, I did," Larry shot back humorously, a smile clear in his voice even as he covered his mouth.  
  
Dipper smiled, even if he didn't get the joke. Quiet ambiance fell into place again as he turned to his part of the mural--a bright green triangle, spouting flames out of its sides. He'd put the eye on last.  
  
Karkat was painting some big, white blob. It had grey eyes, everywhere on its body, and a soft red gradient to what looked like its claws?  
  
Larry was working on a dog. No embellishments, no changes, just a dog.  
  
Dipper turned to Larry's painting, looking at it with a soft gaze that held the mark of a patron in them.  
  
He watched the painting take shape, looking at it _this_ way and _that._  
  
A dog... And his boy?  
  
Dipper balked, trying to see the boy's face, but he had none to speak of. No features--just a flat expanse of light, light skin.  
  
Larry finished the painting by putting down a thick smear of red over the boy's skin.  
  
"Campers! _Luuuuunch!"_  
  
Dipper jumped at the sound of Neil's voice, groaning as he turned away from the mural.  
  
He never got to put the eye on.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you would like, leave kudos. If it would so please you, leave a comment. But, as always, please point out stupid grammar things


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Painting class and a real big fight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for ur lovely comments, guys!!

Karkat groaned, flinching deeper into his seat. He wanted _so badly_ to not have to paint anymore, to be able to just toss the brushes down and scream 'til his voice stopped.  
  
But that wouldn't work, now, would it?  
  
Sal's leg bounced against Karkat's, and Nepeta wiggled around in her seat as she painted with gusto.  
  
Her arms flew across the canvas, wide strokes spreading paints thickly across the stretched expanse. A wild smile was thrown over her features, eye alight with joy unmatched by anything in the rest of the room.  
  
Karkat looked around, hand drifting as his focus did. He had been wanting to talk to...  
  
"'Ey. Karkat. What's up?"  
  
Karkat yelped, throwing his body into the wet paint on his canvas.  
  
He leaned back, growling. Paint smeared across his chest, over the light grey designs of his sweatshirt--infuriating, as Dave patted his shoulder.  
  
"Didn't mean to scare you, Katkat," Dave said simply, his use of the nickname making Karkat huff, "Just wanted to come over and see what my best dude is doing."  
  
Dave crouched down, dark a dark blob in the corner of Karkat's eye. His face was splotched with stark white blooms of skin, and Karkat gasped.  
  
His eyes flicked to the painting.  
  
All of the air left him as he stared, transfixed on his own humiliation.  
  
He'd been _color-matching Dave's skin tones._  
  
Karkat covered his eyes, ready for the reprimanding snort from Dave--but it never came. Instead, there was a soft 'huh,' as Dave grinned softly, looking at Karkat and nodding.  
  
"You got it perfectly, Kat. Good job."  
  
Nepeta was looking at Karkat, now, wide eyes round like milk saucers as she stared. Her mouth was turned down in a frown, but there was a twinkle in her gaze that reminded Karkat of the laugh that they shared.  
  
Dave looked at her painting, signing that he liked it. She nodded, signing that she would like his, as well.  
  
Sal was turning to Karkat, now, leg gone completely still in favor of looking at Karkat with dark eyes. Stormy, overcast expression matched the dark of his painting well.  
  
Dave turned to Sal's, nodding.  
  
"Y'all're great. But there's no _way_ you could beat me. 'Less you're Nepeta, but eh. Win some, lose some."  
  
And then, Karkat blinked, and Dave was gone.  
  
Karkat shook his head, quickly gaining steam as he looked down at his shirt. Ruined, stained--sullied.  
  
He mixed up a deep red, smearing it down the center spiral of his canvas.  
  
***  
  
Dipper painted amicably, uncomfortably pressing his leg against Marco's as he did. Across the circle of easels from him, Feferi was painting. On his right, Mabel was pressing her brush into the canvas, creating fluffy night-time clouds out of blue sky.  
  
At the bottom, a young girl sat. Her hair was in twin plaits behind her, pouring across a meadow in silhouetted streams of ink. Her hands were stretched upward, cupping the sun and moon in both hands.  
  
Dipper stared at the piece, sudden envy passing through him. Again, his thoughts had drifted to Bill. Covering his own canvas were eyes of varying sizes, all looking down on a pit of blue flames, from which came a hand. Stretching ever-upward, the hand covered the bottom half of the canvas.  
  
Of course he had. Of _course._  
  
Marco was painting a dragon, with sad eyes and magma tears flowing from her glassy eyes.  
  
Dipper wondered dimly what Feferi was painting, but decided he didn't want to know as he noted the wild snarl that curved her features.  
  
Suddenly, something clamored to life in the right-most section of the circle, people jumping up and easels thrown to the floor in panic.  
  
Dipper jumped, but not up. After a shake-out of his different body parts (three, six, nine, twelve for each limb, going counter-clockwise first and then clockwise second), Dipper was confident enough to stand. And even then, he knew he wouldn't see much.  
  
Mabel threw a confused smile, teeth flashing frightfully as Dipper looked down, and stood as well.  
  
She was holding her arm in a bar across her chest, scowling at the easels on the far right.  
  
And then, out of the crowd there:  
  
"Learn to insult my fucking sister, asswipe!"  
  
And as Dipper watched, Max stumbled back, gripping out behind him as he did--  
  
And Karkat _launched_ out of the crowd at him, grabbing the counselor's shirt and ripping it toward himself.  
  
A right-hook that missed, and Max was throwing his body weight on Karkat, screaming.  
  
Karkat staggered, but didn't go down, and began to wail on Max with a flurry of ill-placed punches that made him look like a well-trained toddler.  
  
Dipper gasped, a wave of vertigo washing over him. Max was pushed back even more, as Karkat began to bully his way across the room.  
  
Max snapped his head up, and dove upward--the top of his forehead connected solidly with Karkat's jaw, knocking his head back and clacking his teeth together.  
  
Karkat stumbled backward, and Max took this opportunity to punch the _shit_ out of Karkat. A left-hook, and then a straight-shot into his nose.  
  
Blood poured out of his nose, and Karkat shrieked.  
  
Max laughed quietly, shaking his head. Smirking cruelly at Karkat, whose shoulders now slumped forward lowly, he growled:  
  
"Don't hit someone you can't fucking take, dude."  
  
After more than a minute of bleeding, Karkat dropped like a sack of potatoes, still bleeding heavily as he did.  
  
Max blanched, frowning down at Karkat's body.  
  
It took everyone, aside from maybe three people, a minute or two to find out:  
  
"He's anemic!"  
  
Nepeta rushed forward to grab his head, laying it on her thighs. She hadn't been the one to scream; that was Sal, who was also flying over the floor to get to Karkat as quickly as possible.  
  
Not even a second later, two of the other counselors ran in, one with scrawny legs and elf ears on, and the other in a knock-off NASA t-shirt.  
  
Max looked at them out of the corner of his eye, scowling.  
  
"Kid took a swing because I was fucking around and said some stupid shit. Anemic."  
  
Diper moved of his own volition, away from the scene. Just as he did, however, he noticed that Nepeta had picked up Karkat, and was carrying him toward the door.  
  
A procession of campers followed her, all looking grim.  
  
Behind Nepeta, Sal and Larry. Beside them, a girl in a turtleneck with close-cropped black hair, in a thin skirt. Dave, then Feferi's apparent ex, Eridan. His cloak covered his entire body, the fabric flapping a but behind him. Behind them, a lanky guy with splotches of black and white skin covering his visible body, pushing the kid in the wheelchair.  
  
Dipper slipped out, shaking his head as he pushed into the woods behind the mess hall.  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would love love LOVE to do more on this than was planned, soo... is anyone down?

**Author's Note:**

> Please tell me if you find any grammatical errors, spelling mistakes, or character screw-ups!


End file.
